


Off Duty

by Emospritelet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Play, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hair-pulling, Multiple Sex Positions, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Roni needing bleach again, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: Lacey's deadbeat boyfriend has been arrested and jailed, and so she decides to spend some time in Roni's bar.  It so happens that the detective who arrested him also likes to drink there.  Confrontation and yelling followed by hot smut.  You can't blame a girl...Winner of Best Woven Lace, Best Woven Belle and Best PWP in the Rumbelle Happy Ending Awards 2018





	Off Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nirvige16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirvige16/gifts).



> So my muse wanted to write PWP, and for some reason this happened...

Lacey was on her fourth drink, her head pleasantly light and the warmth of the bar seeping into her through the little dress she wore.  Probably not the done thing to be drinking alone, but she had never given even the smallest fuck about propriety, and it wasn’t as though she had anyone around to keep her company.  Ruby and Mulan were out on a date and probably groping each other in the back of the movie theatre, and her useless boyfriend was unable to step up, owing to a slight case of incarceration.  The idiot never had listened to her about the stupidity of dealing drugs in Roni’s.  Anyone with two brain cells to rub together knew that off-duty cops hung out there.

She took another drink, frowning.  Perhaps that was the problem.  Keith only had _one_ brain cell, and that was too fixated on what hung between his legs to think rationally about anything else.  God only knew why she’d ended up with him; he had an eye for pretty girls, was a deadbeat loser who stole from her, and was borderline obnoxious when he’d had a drink, which was most days.  She just hadn’t been able to summon the energy to kick him out, until the police had dealt with the problem for her.  He wasn’t bad in the sack, though, she supposed.  Not as good as he thought he was, but not bad.  No chance of getting any of that anytime soon.

She scowled to herself, drinking the last of her vodka tonic and calling out for another.  Roni made the drink, pushing it across the bar with a brief smile, and Lacey nodded her thanks as she slid some money across in payment.  Roni picked it up, turning to the next customer.

“Whisky please, Roni.”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and she glanced around, lip curling as she recognised the man.  A cop.  Detective Something.  Short and thin, with light brown hair that brushed his collar and a dark, dangerous look in his eyes.  He was wearing a dark jacket and white cotton shirt above jeans and boots, a heavy-buckled belt at his waist and a chain of thick silver links just visible where his shirt collar was unbuttoned.  The last time she had seen him, he had had his foot on Keith’s throat and was reaching for his cuffs.  Of course, Keith had attacked him with a broken bottle first, but that wasn’t the point.  Asshole.

“Thought there was a bad fucking smell around here,” she said loudly, and he regarded her calmly as he reached for his glass of whisky.

“Ah yes,” he said.  “The Australian with the pretty blue eyes and the foul mouth.  Didn’t I beat up your pimp, or something?”

“He was my _boyfriend_!” snapped Lacey, and the man shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not a distinction I care too much about,” he said.  “Though I note your use of the past tense.  You’re welcome.”

He raised his glass, as though congratulating her, and Lacey bristled.

“Look, Officer-whatever-your-name-is—”

“Detective, actually.”

“—because of you I’m drinking alone with zero chance of getting my rocks off anytime soon!”

The detective sent her a thin smile.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said dryly.  “I’m fairly certain you’ll be able to find a willing partner for whatever it is you want to do.”

He looked her up and down insolently.

“Play your cards right and you might even make some money out of it,” he added, and downed his whisky, setting his glass on the bar and throwing down some cash before turning away.

Lacey watched him swagger off like he owned the fucking place, and felt rage swell within her, flushing her cheeks. _Arrogant little shit!_  She stomped after him, catching up just as he turned into the corridor that led to the exit, and reached out to grab him.

It was a mistake.

One moment she was grasping at his shoulder, and the next she was being spun around and shoved face-first against the wall, her cheek pressing against the cold painted brickwork and her wrists pinned behind her back.  He was pressed up against her, and she could feel his breath on her ear, his lips almost close enough to brush her skin.  It made her heart thump with apprehension and her body tingle with the first, familiar feelings of arousal.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and rough.  She licked her lips, trying to calm her racing heart.

“Lacey,” she said.  “Lacey French.”

He exhaled, long and low, his breath warm against her skin, making her shiver.

“Well, Lacey French,” he said softly.  “Do not touch a police officer when he has his back to you.  Can end badly.”

He was still breathing heavily, and she felt her own breath quicken in response, her belly tugging with unexpected need.

“How about - how about if I’m facing you?” she asked.  “Can I touch the police officer then?”

He chuckled at that.

“Well, that would definitely take care of the element of surprise,” he said.  “I guess I could see you coming.”

“Only if you’re any good in bed,” she countered, and there was a moment of silence before he chuckled again, a low, rumbling sound heavy with promise.

“Not what I meant, but point taken.”

He released her wrists, stepping back so that she could turn around.  Lacey met his eyes as she pressed back against the wall, the darkness in them catching her breath and making arousal surge within her.  She flattened her palms against the cool brickwork, the tip of her tongue sweeping over her lips.  The man was maybe twice her age, silver hairs at his temples and scattered through his light brown hair, and fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth.  She didn’t mind that.  Quite the opposite, if she was honest.  There was an energy about him, a rough, seething intensity that made her want to bite her lip and squeeze her thighs together.  He was staring at her, standing far too close, and she shivered at the burning heat in his eyes as they raked over her face and form.  His chest rose and fell beneath the thin white shirt he wore, and she wanted to open it up, to push it from his shoulders and down his arms, to trace a path from his nipples to his navel with her tongue.

“How about it?” she asked breathlessly, and he raised an eyebrow.

“How about what?”

Lacey jerked her head towards the doorway.

“My place,” she said.  “Maybe you could see me coming.”

She waited for his response, her breathing unsteady.  His brow had crinkled a little, as though he was confused.

“What?” he asked.

She smirked a little. _So.  Not used to being propositioned, huh?_

“My place,” she repeated.  “Way I see it, you locked up my boyfriend.  I’m - I’m just putting in a claim for compensation.”

“He was dealing drugs, and then assaulted a police officer with a broken bottle,” said the detective dryly.  “Or at least he tried to, before I took the bloody thing off him.  He’s lucky I didn’t shove it up his arse.”

“Oh, that was between the two of you,” she said, waving a hand.  “Bunch of testosterone-fuelled crap.  Doesn’t seem fair that I should be the one to suffer.  Compensation, like I said.”

She was grinning, and he looked a little amused, despite himself.

“You are aware that’s not how the justice system works?” he said.  “If you ask me, I was doing you a favour.  But in any event, it was an open and shut case.  The fact that it broke up your relationship entitles you to fuck all.”

Lacey rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands.

“Would you just work with me here?” she snapped, and his mouth twitched as he inclined his head.

“Very well,” he said, his eyes glinting.  “How much compensation were you thinking of, Miss French?”

Lacey pouted, pretending to consider his question.

“Well, _ideally_ eight,” she said.

“Grand?” he asked thinly, and Lacey smirked.

“Inches,” she said, enjoying the surprised quirk of his eyebrows.  “Anything less than that would have to be made up with extra time and attention.  Like maybe some oral.”

He seemed to be trying not to laugh.

“Then perhaps I should cut an inch or two off, make the most of it.”

Lacey giggled at that, and his grin widened, but he took a step back.

“I think you’re teasing me,” he said, in a low voice.  “And as much as I’ve enjoyed our little encounter, I think we ought to quit while neither one of us is ahead.”

“Oh, come on!” she pleaded.  “Tell me you’re not thinking about it!  You.  Me.  A good, hard fuck against the wall or something.  What do you say?”

He blinked at her, his face unreadable.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said patiently.  “Getting grabbed and pinned against the wall was kind of a turn-on, not gonna lie.  Makes me wonder if you’re as enthusiastic about everything you do.”

“Oh really?”

He stepped forward and leaned in, hands on the wall to each side of her, and she let her back press against the cold stone, her breath catching in her throat as his nose almost brushed hers.

“You’re very forthright,” he said, cool breath tickling her lips.  Lacey shrugged, letting one shoulder rise and fall.

“Life’s short and it sucks,” she said flatly.  “I’m gonna get my kicks while I can.”

“A philosophy I can get behind,” he said, and bent his head to kiss her.

His lips were soft and warm, but the kiss itself was rough, his tongue pushing into her mouth and opening her up as one hand sank into her hair, twisting her dark curls.  Lacey moaned as he pressed up against her, his body lean and hard, his other hand sliding down to cup her breast and squeeze.  He tasted of whisky, like fire on her tongue, and she opened her legs a little, feeling the hard length of him through his jeans, pushing against her core.  Desire surged in her, and she stroked her fingers through his hair, her nails raking his scalp.  He growled into her mouth, his hand sliding down over her waist and hip and up between her legs, cupping her through the lace thong she wore.  His fingertips stroked, sending jolts of sensation through her, and he pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavily, saliva shining on his lips.

“You’re wet, Lacey,” he whispered.  “Do you want me to touch you?”

She nodded fervently, and he kissed her again, one finger slipping inside her panties.  Lacey moaned as he stroked her, sliding through wet flesh before pushing deep inside her.  A second finger joined the first, and she pushed up on her toes with a tiny cry as his thumb brushed over her clit.

 _“Fuck!”_ he groaned.  “God, you feel good!”

She clung to his shoulders, lips parted and eyes closed, her breath coming in pants as he thrust his fingers in and out of her.  His forehead was pressed to hers, their lips almost touching, and he kissed her hungrily, his tongue pushing inside as he fingered her.  Lacey moaned, lifting one leg to slide up his thigh, letting him press deeper.

“Oh my _God_!”

Their lips parted with a wet, sucking sound, and Lacey glanced to the side.  Roni was staring at them, hands on hips and a disapproving twist to her full mouth.

“Would you two get a room, already?” she snapped.  “This is a respectable establishment, not a damn brothel!”

“We weren’t planning on an audience,” he said dryly, and Roni glared at him.

“Then why the hell are you fingering one of my customers in the corridor?” she snapped.  “Go find a damn bed, Detective!”

She stomped into the restroom, shaking her head, and Lacey glanced back at him, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“So, like I said,” she breathed.  “You.  Me.  A good, hard fuck against the wall.  But at my place, not here.”

He licked his lips, nodding, his fingers slipping out of her.

“Sounds good.”

Lacey grabbed his hand, sticky from her juices, and pulled him with her out of the bar.  She walked quickly in the cold night air, her breathing still unsteady after their fumble in the corridor.  The man was definitely good with his hands, not to mention his mouth.  She couldn’t wait to see what else he could do.  Older guys kicked fucking ass, she decided.

Her apartment was in the next street, and she scrabbled in her pocket for her keys as she trotted up the stairs.  They were both a little breathless when they reached her floor, though whether that was from exertion or arousal she couldn’t say.  Her hands shook as she slipped the key into the lock, and as soon as they were inside he pushed her against the wall, his mouth finding hers as his hands slipped inside her jacket.  He kissed her roughly, his tongue pushing into her mouth, his hands running over her curves.  She moaned a little, and he broke the kiss with a low growl, his lips brushing over hers, his breath hot against her lips.

“Now,” he said, his voice a low rumble.  “Where were we?”

He let a hand slide down over her hip and between her legs, pushing up beneath her skirt, and she let out a gasp of pleasure as he touched her, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her panties.  She clung to his shoulders, rising up as a finger pushed inside her, and he began to thrust, his thumb stroking over her clit.  His forehead was pressed to hers, and she breathed him in, pulling the scent of him into her lungs, her breath coming hard in her chest.  He added another finger, pushing deep.  She could feel herself building to climax, and she wanted it, wanted him to make her come against the wall in her own hallway, wanted him to drag her into the bedroom and fuck her hard.

A shrill ringing came then, emanating from his jacket, and he groaned in frustration, his mouth flattening.  Lacey licked her lips.

“Are you - are you gonna get that?” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“I’m off duty,” he said.  “They can wait.”

“Right answer,” she said, and kissed him again.

His fingers were sliding in and out of her, and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, sensations building within her, her breath coming in pants.  She clung to him, her head rolling back against the wall, a low moan coming from her as he pulled his mouth from hers and kissed down her neck, his teeth sinking into her.  Lacey let out a cry of pleasure, pushing herself against his hand as she came hard, and he pulled out his fingers and dropped to his knees, pushing the skirt of her dress up around her waist and tugging her panties aside.  He put his mouth to her, his tongue swiping through her folds, and she jerked at the touch of it, her flesh already sensitive from her orgasm.  He growled at the taste of her, his face buried in her wet flesh, fingers digging into her thighs and pushing her legs further apart.  Lacey moaned, raking his hair with her fingers, and he pushed his tongue inside her, sweeping it over her.  His breath was hot against her skin as he pulled back a little.

“Fuck, you taste good!” he growled.  “Your cum’s so sweet, Lacey.  I wanna taste you again!”

“Later!” she gasped.  “Please!”

He pushed to his feet, pressing himself against her once more, one hand snaking down between them to touch her as he sucked at her neck, his mouth damp and sticky with her juices.  He drew his tongue up her throat, pulling back a little to gaze at her with eyes grown almost black with lust, his nose brushing hers.

“What do you want?” he rasped, and she could smell the scent of her own arousal on his skin, his lips.  “You want me to touch you?”

He stroked a finger through her wet flesh, and she let out a moan.  His tongue swept up her throat again and along her jaw, his lips brushing against hers.

“You want me to fuck you?”

His fingers pushed inside her, two at once, sliding in and stretching her, and she moaned again, her nails digging into his shoulders through the jacket.  He groaned at the feel of her, and she tensed her muscles, squeezing his fingers and making him gasp out a curse.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful!”

He slipped the fingers out, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks, pushing wet fingers through her hair as his tongue slipped into her mouth.  His body pressed against hers, his hips grinding against her, and Lacey opened her mouth for him, humming in pleasure as his tongue stroked against hers, wanting more of him.  Wanting him inside her.

She broke the kiss, and he took a step back, breathing hard.  Grasping his hand, she pulled him with her, not caring that her dress was hiked up around her hips.  The bedroom was dark, and she put on one of the lamps and kicked off her shoes, wishing she had thought to pick up her dirty clothes before she left for the evening.  She kicked her work outfit into a corner, turning to face him before tugging the little dress over her head and leaving herself in the black lace underwear she wore.  He was breathing hard, staring at her, and she raised her chin, putting her hands on her hips.

“Lose the jacket.  And the boots.”

She turned to her nightstand, listening to him shrug off the jacket.  A quick rummage in the nightstand drawer turned up some condoms, which she tossed onto the bed, hearing his boots fall to the floor with twin thuds.  She straightened up, turning to face him as his hands dropped to his belt.  He had taken off his socks, too, and she stepped forward, running her hands over his chest, his skin hot through the thin cotton.  The chain of silver links rested on his collarbones, glinting in the light.  Her eyes met his, and she licked her lips.

“Detective, huh?” she said.  “You got a name?”

His mouth twitched.

“Weaver.”

“Really?”  She pursed her lips, looking him over.  “Well, I _can_ confirm that you’re _very_ good with your fingers…”

Weaver grinned at that, and she leaned in to kiss his neck, her hands sliding up over his chest to find the buttons of the shirt.  He let his head roll back with a low noise of enjoyment, and she plucked open the buttons, opening up the shirt and releasing the fresh scent of his cologne and the warm musk of his bare skin.  Lacey worked her way down, unbuttoning the shirt and tugging it from his jeans before she slipped her fingers beneath the crisp cotton and pushed it from his shoulders.  He shrugged it off, letting it flutter to the floor behind him, and Lacey slid her hands around his waist, her mouth kissing over his smooth chest, lips sucking a nipple in between them.  He let out a low rumble of pleasure as she suckled at him, her tongue scraping over the taut peak.  She felt his hands sink into her dark curls as she kissed him, her tongue swirling over his skin, lips sucking at him as she sank into a crouch, kissing her way down over his belly.  He gasped as her tongue swept along his naked skin just above the waistband of his jeans, and his hands tightened in her hair.  Lacey looked up at him, a lazy grin stretching across her face as she scraped the nail of her forefinger down the hard ridge of his cock.  He gritted his teeth

“Fuck, woman!” he growled.

“You’re good with your mouth,” she whispered.  “Good with your hands, too.  Can’t wait to see what you can do with this.”

“Oh, I’m more than happy to go another round before we get to the main event,” he said roughly.  “Get on that bed and I’ll lick you until you fucking scream.”

Lacey bit her lip, her breath quickening with arousal.

“Maybe later,” she said.  “Right now I _badly_ need you to fuck me.”

His hands slipped to her upper arms, and he hauled her upright, tugging her against him and kissing her hard.  Lacey moaned as his tongue pushed into her mouth, his lips sliding over hers, his fingers digging into her arms as he held her close.  She reached up to drag her fingers through his hair, pushing herself against him, feeling him loosen his grip and slide his hands down over her rear to cup and squeeze.  A deepening of the kiss, and then without warning he pulled his mouth free and kissed down over her chest.  His hands rose up to her shoulders, thumbs sliding beneath her bra straps, tugging them down her arms and opening up the cups.  Her breasts sprung free, and he put his mouth to one, sucking on a nipple as the bra straps pinned her arms to her sides, caught in his thumbs.  Lacey let out a cry of pleasure, arching her back, his mouth almost painful against her skin.

He sucked at her hard, tugging on the straps, pulling her arms behind her back so that she pushed her breasts forward for his waiting mouth.  She was moaning, her head thrown back as he sucked, and all at once he let go the straps and unhooked the bra, pushing the straps down over her wrists and hands and letting the bra fall.  He lifted his hands to cup her breasts, squeezing firmly, his mouth trailing across from one to the other, and Lacey could feel herself growing wetter at the feel of his mouth on her, her belly clenching with need.  She wanted him to touch her, to lay her down on the bed and lick her into a frenzy, to slide inside her and pound her into the mattress.

“Would you take me to bed before I fucking explode?” she breathed.

She felt him chuckle against her skin, his tongue flicking over her before he let her nipple slip from his mouth.  He looked up at her, his eyes glinting, mouth twisted in the sort of smirk that should have made her want to slap his face.  Not shove it between her thighs.

“Patience is a virtue, Miss French.”

“Yeah, well, not one I excel at,” she told him.  “Take your pants off before I do it for you.”

“Go ahead.”

He straightened up, and she let her hands drop to his belt, tugging thick leather through the heavy belt buckle and unzipping his fly.  The jeans were pushed over his hips to hit the floor at his feet, loose cotton boxers warm beneath her fingers.  She squeezed his rear, pleased to find it firm in her hands, and he stepped out of the jeans, bending to sweep her up in his arms.  She squeaked in surprise, but he simply carried her to the bed and threw her onto the mattress, climbing on beside her.

“On your knees,” he said roughly.

Lacey rolled onto her front, pushing up on hands and knees as he moved behind her.  She tossed her hair back a little, anticipation making her shiver at his touch.  His hands stroked over her hips, fingers pushing beneath the strings of her thong before drawing it slowly down her thighs to her knees.  His hands slid up again, and she bit back a moan when one slipped between her legs, fingers stroking through her folds.  Lacey let out a tiny cry as he grazed her clit, and then his fingers slid inside her, his other hand reaching around to touch her.  He worked in a slow rhythm, two fingers thrusting in and out of her, the fingers of his other hand flickering over her clit, rubbing and stroking.  She could feel her cheeks flushing as she worked towards another climax, her breath coming hard in her chest.

“Can you take another?” he rasped, and she nodded, her tongue flicking out to wet her dry lips.

He added another finger, stretching her, filling her, and Lacey moaned, arching her back a little, her head rolling on her shoulders.  She wondered if that was what it would feel like to have his cock inside her, and she wanted it, wanted to feel him sink deep into her and fuck her hard.  His fingers were sliding in and out, slippery-wet with her juices, and she felt his thumb press against rear entrance, circling and pushing, sending jolts of sensation through her.

 _“Fuck!”_ she gasped.  “Oh _God_ , that feels good!”

He kept up his rhythm, pushing and sliding and thrusting, fingertips flickering, thumb circling, and she was shuddering as her orgasm built, as the sensations rose up within her.  Her arms were shaking, and she was panting, sweat beading on her upper lip, and her moans increased in pitch, her hips moving in time with his thrusting fingers as he worked her to climax.  She held her breath, heart thudding in her chest as he pushed the tip of his thumb inside her, and she came with a loud cry of release, bright lights bursting behind her eyes.

She fell forward onto the bed, his fingers slipping from her, her body jerking as she let out tiny moans.  Her skin was tingling, her heart thudding in her chest, and she tried to catch her breath, feeling him press down on her back, his mouth trailing over her skin.  He kissed down to her buttocks, teeth sinking into her and pulling another moan from her, and then his hands were on her hips, tugging at her, turning her onto her back.  She rolled over with a contented sigh, head lolling against the pillows, her cheeks flushed with heat and her body feeling wonderfully loose.  Her eyes were closed, but she could feel him, the scrape of stubble against her breasts as he sucked at her, the sticky heat of his fingers on her skin.  Lacey relaxed, letting him kiss his way down her body.

“Fucking sweet, you are,” he breathed, and his tongue swirled in circles on her belly.  “God, I want to get inside you!”

Her thong was around her ankles, and he grasped it, tugging it off at her feet before his mouth was on her again, his tongue stroking and sliding, circling her clit and making her moan and lift her hips.

“ _Fuck_ , you taste good!” he whispered.  “I wanna make you come again, Lacey.  Want to feel it all around me!”

She murmured an agreement and opened her legs wider, wanting to wrap around him and hold him tight against her, and he kissed his way back up her body, wriggling a little as he pushed his underwear down over his hips.  Lacey patted the bedclothes, looking for a condom, and a rustle of plastic told her she had one.  She held it up, and he snatched it from her, kneeling up to put it on.

She watched him with heavy eyes as he swore under his breath, his fingers slippery, the condom falling to the bed before he picked it up again.  His face was sticky with her juices, his hair messy, short as it was.  He finally got the condom on, and leaned over her, the palms of his hands sinking into the duvet as he reached down between them.  Lacey opened her legs wider, feeling his fingers at her entrance again, sliding inside her.  She moaned, and his lower lip trembled a little as his fingers sank into her up to the knuckles.

“Fuck, you’re wet!” he breathed.  “So beautiful.  You feel like fucking velvet.  Are you ready?”

“I was ready in the bloody corridor at Roni’s!” she drawled, and he grinned.

She watched as he lined them up, the head of his cock pushing against her, and he sank into her with a low groan of pleasure, deep inside until he was pressed up against her.  Lacey lifted her knees, legs sliding around his back as he began to move with a slow circle of his hips, grinding against her.  It felt incredible, and she closed her eyes, her head rolling back against the pillows as her nails sank into his shoulders.

“That’s amazing,” she murmured.  “How the hell did you get so good at this?”

He smirked at that.

“And here I was thinking I was out of practice,” he remarked.  “Maybe we’re just very compatible.”

She grinned, and put her hand on his shoulder, pushing him as she rolled, until he was on his back with her straddling him.

“Well, I don’t think it’s fair that you should do all the work,” she said, and he sent her a lazy grin, his hands sliding up her thighs.

“I’m happy to take it in turns.”

“Good.”  She began to move, letting him slide in and out of her.  “You gonna stay tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“Well, if this doesn’t fucking kill me, I thought we could try again tomorrow morning.”

His grin widened.

“Alright.”

She rocked against him, letting her head roll back with a murmur of pleasure, her hands sliding up his chest.  Her thumbs found his nipples, and she rubbed in circles, making him groan.  Her eyes were closed, and she concentrated on how he felt inside her, how hard and thick he was and how she could feel every inch of him.  His hands had slid up to her hips, tugging her tight against him, and she gasped at the increased friction, her pace quickening a little.

“That’s it!” he whispered.  “Fuck me, Lacey.  Fuck me hard!”

She moaned, her tongue flickering out and licking the sweat from her lip.  His hands slid up to cup her breasts, squeezing her nipples and sending jolts of sensation through her, and she did the same, thumbs pressing the peaks of his nipples against her fingers and making him jerk and growl.  She was rubbing against him, gasping for breath, knowing she was close, knowing she would come again.  His hands slid up to her shoulders and down her arms to grasp her wrists and pull at them, pinning them to her hips, and she threw her head back, arching her body as she came with a loud wail.

Her body jerked, clenching around him, and he released her wrists and surged up off the bed, an arm going around her waist as his mouth found hers.  His hands sank into her hair, twisting and tugging, making her cry out and cling to him.  He kissed her hard, and Lacey opened her mouth for him, trying to catch her breath as her skin tingled and her heart thumped in her chest.  He kissed down her neck, teeth sinking into her, and she moaned in pleasure, her tongue swiping over the slick skin at his throat, the chain around his neck warm from the heat of him.  She inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of his sweat and musk deep into her nose, still feeling him hard inside her.

He pulled back a little, pressing his forehead to hers.  He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were almost black, the light from the lamp shining gold deep within them.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice low and rough, and she nodded, leaning in to kiss him.  She sucked sweat from his lip, drawing her tongue along his jaw and feeling the rasp of his stubble before pressing another kiss to his mouth.

“I think it’s _definitely_ your turn,” she said, and he grinned lazily.

“Good, because if I don’t come inside you soon I’ll fucking burst something.”

He kissed her hungrily, and she raked his hair with her nails, the strands damp and sticky.  He pulled his mouth from hers and turned them, rolling so that she was beneath him, and Lacey drew up her knees, wrapping them around him as he sank into her with a low, rumbling groan.  His hands slid up her body, stroking over her cheeks and into her hair, and he kissed her as he began to thrust, his hips grinding and circling.  There was scalding heat where their bodies joined, the friction caused by his hair and her juices making her see stars.

Lacey gasped into his mouth as he thrust deep, and he broke the kiss, pushing up on his elbows a little to look down on her, his pace quickening.  She slid her hand up his back, nails scoring his shoulders, and he grimaced, making his thrusts harder, deeper, pulling tiny cries from her.  She could feel that he was close, his cock rigid inside her, and she squeezed at him, clenching her muscles and making him groan.

“Oh _fuck_!” he growled, and came hard, thrusting into her, his cock pulsing as he let out a loud cry of pleasure.

Lacey moved with him, bucking her hips, tugging at him, pulling every drop from him.  Her hands ran over his back, feeling goosebumps ripple over his skin, and his body jerked against her, his breath hot against her mouth, his forehead pressed to hers.  He slowed and stopped, relaxing into her a little, and she wrapped her arms around him, their bodies burning hot and slick with sweat.

Lacey licked her lips.  She was thirsty, and the thought of a cool glass of water was very tempting, but she was too warm and wet and wasted to get up.  Besides, it felt nice having him there on top of her.  He was looking down on her, still breathing heavily, and she smiled, knowing she probably looked like what she was: a woman who’d been fucked within an inch of her life and enjoyed every minute of it.

“Hey,” she said, which was pretty much all her brain could cope with.  His mouth pulled up at one corner.

“Hey.”

There was silence for a moment, and she stroked a hand through his hair.  He made a sound that was almost a purr, which made her want to giggle.

“So,” he said.  “Was that adequate compensation for the loss of your deadbeat boyfriend, Miss French?”

Lacey pursed her lips, as though she was considering.

“Far as I’m concerned you can lock him up and throw away the key,” she said.  “That was fucking amazing, Detective.”

“Like I said.”  He winked at her.  “I think we’re very compatible.”

“Good.”  She twined her arms around his neck.  “In that case maybe we should do this again sometime.”

He grinned at that.

“Well, if you give your number, I can send you my shift pattern,” he said.  “I tend to go to Roni’s when I’m off duty.  Maybe I’ll see you in there.”

Lacey grinned.

“Maybe you will.”


End file.
